


A Lesson under the Arboray Trees?

by Findswoman



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Mush, Foreign Language, Kissing, Original planet, Slice of Life, Teen Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-19
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2019-01-27 08:15:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12577536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Findswoman/pseuds/Findswoman
Summary: Young Obi-Wan and Siri Tachi, who are on a mission together on a boring planet, get a fun language lesson from a young friend. Written in December 2015 for earlybird-obi-wan as part of the TF.N Fanfic Winter Gift exchange. She requested the following:I want a story in Before with1. a lesson2. a girl3. a sweet endingI do not want: anyone dyingCharacters: Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon and Siri TachiI've also borrowed some aspects of her fanon on the Dunai and Dunai-elder species, as well as on their language; see the notes below for details.I thank Ewok Poet, Admiral Volshe, and Jedi Master Kenobiwan for their feedback on earlier drafts.





	A Lesson under the Arboray Trees?

Obi-Wan Kenobi was annoyed, frustrated, and worried. More so, he suspected, than was considered proper for a Jedi.  
  
It was bad enough that Master Jinn had dragged him along on this tiresome diplomatic (or some such; Obi-Wan wasn’t quite sure) mission to the Outer Rim planet of Mayno-Mayzee. At least they had been able to wrangle Master Gallia to let Siri Tachi join them, which had been no small diplomatic triumph in and of itself. But between the endless, boring committee meetings and nonstop appointments with planetary dignitaries, Obi-Wan had barely had any time to talk to his friend and fellow padawan. Nor did it help that Master Jinn was constantly coming up with various trifling errands on which to send both of them—separately from each other. Always, of course, while smiling and winking in his characteristic enigmatic way.  
  
In any case, the entire situation was infuriating enough without the girl going missing.  
  
For that is exactly what had happened. The girl, the little black-haired girl they had found three days ago crying in an alley, was not in the unused office suite that the committee had given them to serve as their base of operations. About six or seven Standard years old, Human-looking but with pointed ears that peeked through her straight, smooth hair, she had spent the last three days jabbering at them in a language Obi-Wan had never heard before—and the off-brand protocol droid the committee had lent them hadn’t been much help. It was only from the odd interspersed word or phrase of broken Basic that they were able to learn that she had gotten separated from her parents. (Indeed, from the intense worry pulsing through her Force signature, they had figured it must be something like that.)  
  
Each day since the three Jedi found her, she would wait in the office suite for them to finish their negotiations, after which they would all partake of a light supper. Siri had even left the girl her datapad and a Cerean puzzle cube to keep her occupied. But now all that was there, amid a flurry of Stikk-Itt notes, Wite-A-Way strips, half-exhausted color styluses, and sketched-on flimsi sheets, was the puzzle cube.  
  
Needless to say, this worried Obi-Wan. He had been specifically assigned by Master Jinn to keep an eye on the girl that afternoon. If she got lost on his watch, he was the one who would eventually end up sentenced to a session of what was known in padawan circles as “intensive topato meditation” in the Jedi Temple kitchens. (Though Obi-Wan had to admit it was rather fun to Force-ricochet the topatoes off each other in midair. He had done so many a time before.)  
  
Right now, however, there was nothing else to do but go look for the missing child. Obi-Wan combed the halls of the Republic embassy, asking everyone he met, droid and sentient, whether they had seen a little black-haired girl with pointed ears. Everyone he met, droid and sentient, answered in the negative.  
  
Exasperated, he went out to walk around the lush parklands surrounding the embassy. With its rich variety of arboreal and avian life, the Living Force was strong there, and feeling its flow lifted his spirits. For at least an hour he strolled along one park path and another, until finally a familiar Force signature wafted into his consciousness from a half-hidden grove of arboray trees. As he came closer, he became aware of a familiar voice wafting from there, too.  
  
“Okay, let me try this again.” It was Siri. “El anjië . . . soni . . . el verid lomin. Is that right?”  
  
“NOH!” came a second voice, a child’s, half laughing, half scolding. “NOH _nononono_ NOH! El _anjii_ soni el verid lomin!”  
  
Obi-Wan entered the grove to see his fellow padawan sitting on the ground sitting on the ground beside none other than the little black-haired girl, very slowly speaking words he didn’t understand.  
  
“El anjii . . . sonin . . .”  
  
“Noh sonin! Soni!” Although trying to sound stern, the girl was really closer to squealing with laughter. “You _conj’ate!_ ”  
  
“OK, so . . .” Siri cleared her throat. “Sona, soni, soni, sonë . . . no, wait, sona, soni . . . Oh, Gwylla, Dunai is so _hard!_ . . . sona, soni, sonii—oh, hi, Obi-Wan!”  
  
“Hello, Siri, Gwylla,” he replied, nodding to each of them. “And what are you two doing out here?”  
  
“Me give Siri _lesson!_ ” came the jubilant response from Gwylla.  
  
“That’s right. Each day after the plenary committee meeting we’ve been coming out here, and she’s been teaching me her native language.” Siri paused, then continued. “You’ve been worried about her, haven’t you? Don’t try to deny it, Obi. I can sense it clear as day.”  
  
“I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t a relief to find you here,” Obi-Wan rejoined. “What language is it?”  
  
“Dunai. She’s from Moniron, remember? First thing she told us when we met her.”  
  
The girl nodded. “Moniron is home! Iron aarani, Moniron aarani!” she exclaimed, before launching into a barrage of exuberant Dunai.  
  
Obi-Wan nodded too. Moniron had come up in his Jedi coursework and archival research; he seemed to remember that all its inhabitants were Force-sensitive to some extent, and that it had several ancient and unique Force traditions of its own. And word in the healers’ wing (where Force knows he had spent his share of time) was that they were planning to open a Jedi healers’ academy there.  
  
Siri leaned closer to Obi-Wan and spoke in a quieter voice. “But, Obi, it’s hard. Master Weemsby-Halcyon’s advanced Olys Corellisi class was a blue-milk run in comparison.”  
  
“Try me,” chuckled Obi-Wan, sitting cross-legged on the grass between Siri and Gwylla. “There’s still a whole hour before the ambassador’s reception. I might as well spend it learning something new.”  
  
“Okay, if you say so . . . Gwylla, what shall we start him with? ‘Ghenesin tarba’?”  
  
“Yes, ‘Ghenesin tarba’ is good idea.” The dark-haired girl reached into a pocket and took out a datapad—Siri’s datapad—which she handed to Obi-Wan. “Here! Read!”  
  
“All right, here goes.” Obi-Wan cleared his throat, genteelly but audibly, and began to declaim the text on the screen. “‘Ghenesin tah-ba . . .’”  
  
“Tarba!” Gwylla corrected. “Ta _rrr_ ba!”  
  
“‘Ghenesin ta _rrr_ ba . . .’” Obi-Wan grimaced; the trilled _resh_ felt odd in his High-Coreworld idiolect. “‘Sonin el engwari . . .’”  
  
“Go on, go on!” Siri enthused. “You’re doing beautifully!”  
  
“‘Nenya lomin e _gway_ — _gwah_ -lion lomin . . . ’” Obi-Wan raised a hand in a dramatic gesture and continued in an exaggeratedly lyrical, singsong tone. “‘Nenya . . . alt el engwa rhani . . .’”  
  
“Oh, Obi! You’re a _natural!_ Isn’t he, Gwylla!” Gwylla bounced and clapped her hands in agreement.  
  
“‘Nenya alt el engwa . . . imdal!’”  
  
“Yes, yes!” Siri’s excitement was reaching fever pitch. “Keep going!”  
  
“Engwari . . . aarani!”  
  
“Oh, Obi!”  
  
“‘Aarani . . . _GWAH_ -LI-ON!!’” concluded Obi-Wan, with a final grand flourish of his hand.  
  
“OBI!! That was _so beautiful!_ You are _so amazing!_ ” And before Obi-Wan could respond, Siri sprang from her place on the grass and kissed him on the cheek.  
  
“ _Well,_ now.”  
  
The two padawans froze. All of a sudden, standing before them there under the arboray trees, was the robed, flowing-haired form of Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn.  
  
“There’s just nothing to be done about you two amorous avians, is there? And in front of young Gwylla, too.”  
  
“If you please, Master Jinn . . . we were just . . . just . . .” Obi-Wan trailed off, his face the color of a Red Nebula onion. Gwylla was tittering profusely, a fact that she tried unsuccessfully to hide with both her hands.  
  
“It was just . . . part of our lesson,” put in Siri hurriedly.  
  
“Lesson. I see.” Qui-Gon’s blue eyes twinkled. “Well, if I were a certain kind of Jedi Master, I would say, ‘tell that to Master Gallia.’” Siri shuddered at the name of her no-nonsense teacher. “If I were another kind of Jedi Master, it might be more along the lines of, ‘oh, _that’s_ what the young people are calling it these days.’ Still another kind of Master”—he trained a semi-menacing look on Obi-Wan—“would mutter something about unpeeled topatoes.”  
  
“Oh, Master Jinn, sir!” The girl wrung her hands as she looked imploringly up into his eyes. “Please, noh mad at Obi and Siri. Really _was_ lesson.”  
  
“Oh, was it?” The Jedi Master raised one eyebrow.  
  
“Yes. Dunai language lesson. Not . . . _binhir._ Just lesson.”  
  
Qui-Gon laughed. “All right, if you say so, young one,” he said, playfully ruffling the girl’s hair. She giggled. “Anyway, I didn’t come here to play the stern Inquisitor. I came to tell Gwylla”—he leaned closer to her—“that I’ve found your mother and father. They’re waiting back at the embassy.”  
  
“Ooh, let’s go!” Gwylla jumped up. “Lesson _’journed!_ ”  
  
* * *  
  
In a matter of minutes they were back at the front stairs of the Republic embassy. Two strikingly tall and slender humanoids with the same fair skin and pointed ears as Gwylla stood there waiting for them: a woman with long, straight jet-black hair, and a man with long, straight white-blond hair. Gwylla broke into a run the moment she saw them. They caught her with outstretched arms and covered her with kisses, all the while cooing tender words in that inscrutably beautiful language of theirs.  
  
The three Jedi looked on, smiles illumining their faces as their young friend’s Force signature shone again with happy calm. Siri brushed an errant tear from her eye.  
  
“Oh, Obi,” she sniffed. “Isn’t it sweet?”  
  
“Oh, Siri,” Obi-Wan answered, mimicking her sniff. “Of course it is.”  
  
He glanced at Qui-Gon, who was now facing Gwylla’s parents and telling them the whole story of Gwylla’s finding in very slow, clear Basic. Then he glanced at Siri, then back at Qui-Gon. It didn’t seem quite the right moment to return that kiss Siri had given him under the arboray trees, but maybe—just maybe—there would be a suitably shadowy alcove at the ambassador’s reception.  
  
And even there weren’t, this had already been a much sweeter diplomatic mission than most. ¶

**Author's Note:**

> Mayno-Mayzee is an original planet and is named for Mazomanie, Wisconsin, USA, a small and somewhat podunkacious town northwest of Madison.
> 
> The Dunai poem recited by Obi-Wan is the one featured in earlybird-obi-wan’s fanon post on the Dunai language (http://boards.theforce.net/posts/52277161; scroll down to the bottom of the post to see the poem and its translation). All the Dunai words used in this story are listed and defined in the same post. The exception is the verb forms recited by Siri, which were made up by me based on the word “sonin” (planted) that is part of the poem. As for “binhir,” look it up in the list. ;)
> 
> Master (Floridamia) Weemsby-Halcyon is my own creation, though the name Halcyon is of course closely associated with the Corellian Jedi. I see her as being a member of that semi-autonomous branch of the Order who was specially called in to teach Olys Corellisi at the main Jedi Temple on Coruscant.
> 
>  
> 
> Stikk-Itt notes and Wite-A-Way strips are my own creations. No doubt their in-universe functions are as obvious as their real-life inspirations.
> 
> Wookieepedia links:  
> Arboray tree: http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Arboray_tree  
> Cerean puzzle cube: http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Cerean_Puzzle_Cube  
> Red Nebula onion: http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Red_Nebula_onion. (It’s not made clear in the Wook entry if they’re actually red, but I’m going to imagine that they are.)  
> Topatoes: http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Topato (though I first learned about them from K'Tai qel Letta-Tanku)


End file.
